


Clowns never smile

by RamaDevi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beacon Hills is a huge city, Brothers, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Circus, Depression, Derek Has Issues, Derek hates vigilantes, Dhoom 3, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Scott, Hinted Death, Homelessness, I don't know what's up with me and circuses, Jackson is a jerk, Narcissism, Revenge, Scott and Derek are long time "friends", Slightly Retarded character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:37:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamaDevi/pseuds/RamaDevi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating "Alpha" Peter, FBI Agent's Scott and Derek are called on to solve a case that's been open for years. Someone has been stealing millions of dollars from the high security bank Prime Star, and has eluded every trick the cops have thrown at them. Cue Derek and Scott, who have a few tricks of their own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clowns never smile

Scott looked around himself carefully. He was surrounded on all sides, people staring at him with open hostility or curiosity. They spread out across the lawn, muttering among themselves with interest. They stood on the steps leading up to the house, the porch, the stairs, and the parlor. They spilled out onto the streets when there was no more room in the old Victorian styled house, with teenagers lifting their girlfriends to see what would happen to the stranger. The buzz among the crowd was loud enough to scare away all the animals, and Scott stood in the middle of the crowd with “Alpha” Peter Hael, who beckoned two burly men to his side

Scott wasn’t in a friendly place and he knew it. He ran his eyes over the faces in the crowd, and every eye he met glanced down or away from his gaze. _Good, they better feel guilty_ They knew he was going to die, just as they knew that they were just as disposable to Peter. Yet they still stood there, craning their head to see the punishment that Peter was going to dole out on the stranger. 

_Who decided that he should be the decoy while Derek got the search warrant? Oh, that’s right, Derek had_. “You know what?” He started, stalling.

Peter smiled at him, glancing briefly down briefly down at his fingernails, before straightening his Armani suit and settling back in the loveseat, the leather crackling in the silence. “Please, indulge me. Scott, was it?”

“Your kind deserved to be locked up.” Scott spit on the floor in defiance and a nervous titter rippled among the crowd. Peters smile thinned as he looked at the wood floor in veiled disgust. _Why the fuck did I say that? Oh sure Scott, goad the bull_. 

He continued on. “Yesterday was America’s Independence Day. That’s right, the fourth of July.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing the room before lowering them quickly. The guards at Peters back had lifted their pistols warningly and all were aimed at his heart.

“Independence Day was to be separate from Britain, yes, but to say that within America, we’re all equal and shouldn’t be treated differently. And yet I know that Mr. Farmer over there will **never** be getting the same pay as a CEO.” He nodded to the thing grizzled farmer, who nodded back before freezing, eyes darting to Peters face in fear. Peter just grinned at them with all the benevolence of a shark.

The spit in Scotts mouth dried up at that grin but he forced himself to continue talking. “And I bet Ms….” he trailed off, uncertainly glancing at the tiny Beauty Salon owner.

“Agnes,” she stage whispered, not looking in Peters direction, wringing her hands nervously.

Scott smiled softly at her before turning back to Peter. “Yes, I bet Agnes isn’t equal to Katy Perry,” Scott announced. Agnes looked at the poster of Katy Perry, felt her aged face and shook her head. No, she would never look or be Katy Perry.

“And yet you, you of all people try to scare everyone into submission with you and your asshole guards on top. You steal from these people, claiming that it’s all in the name of helping them. And then,” Scott’s voice dropped to a whisper, “You kill those who disobey. How very _Animal Farm_ of you,” he finished, crossing his arms.

There was a smattering of applause that abruptly cut off when one of Peter’s lackeys switched off the safety on the gun and pointed it into the crowd.

“So what did you think Scott? That you could just come in here and arrest me? On what grounds?”

Scott clenched his fists in frustration. None of the victims wanted to testify against Peter and he knew it, the smug bastard.

Besides,” Peter took a drag from his cigarette before gesturing towards the crowd, “there are so many of us and one of you.” A sullen teenager stepped out and stood beside Peter, holding out her hand.

“Ah, thanks sweetheart.” Scott’s eyes widened as Peter crushed the butt into the girl’s palm. “No!” he shouted, surging forward. _Derek be damned_. 

Suddenly he stopped, mere inches from Peters face as he heard a growl. He quickly moved as Derek crashed through the window on Peter’s right. There were screams as the crowd dispersed. 

“What a drama queen,” Scott sighed before hopping on the back of the motorcycle. He looked around quickly before he scooped up the plank of wood that had broken away from the house. There was a pregnant silence before the muffled crying of the girl caught Scott’s attention. “ **Move** Derek!”

Derek revved the engine and drove the motorcycle into the tight crowd protecting Peter. Scott hefted the two by four and swung. He grinned, satisfied, as he felt the vibration run up his arms and heard the muffled curse thrown his way. Maybe they **would** get out of this alive. Peter flicked his hand and the men behind him cocked their guns. Or not. 

“Derek, I am **not** bulletproof!” Scott whispered as he tried to get his partner to move out of the way. “Bulletproof jacket,” Derek said, but he spun a tight circle and started for the door of the house.

“You were so much cuter when you were trying to be polite Scott,” Peter’s voice shouted after them. There was a loud **crack** and Derek swerved crazily. “Jesus! They’re shooting at us!” Scott yelled. Derek rolled his eyes. _No shit Scott_ , he wanted to yell, but he was too preoccupied with saving their ass to bother. “Scott, shoot back at them!” Derek yelled.

”But there are civilians Hale! Plus, I don’t have a gun!” Scott was really starting to grate on his nerves. “Don’t have a gun; you’re the fucking FBI for fucksake!” Derek gritted his teeth as they burst through the open door.

”Hold on tight!” Scott yelped as a bullet nicked his arm sleeve. _I can’t die here, Allison’s gonna kill me_. He swung the two by four again into a lackeys Adams apple, and winced as he fell.

Derek did a wheelie. That was all that Scott’s brain could come up with as his sense of gravity suddenly shifted. “Derek? Derek! I don’t like this plan Derek!” He scrambled for purchase as Derek rapidly fired off five rounds. Suddenly his hands were full of Derek’s waist as the motorcycle fell down with a heavy **thump** onto the ground. Derek grinned as he peeled out of the clearing.

”Go after them.” Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. What a way to spend his fucking breakfast. “I said **go** you fucking idiots!” he screamed at the lagging men. They quickly ran out, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking useless. This is what I get for all the shit I-”Muffled crying stopped his mumbling as he looked for the source of the sound. The burned girl flinched as he advanced, cold blue eyes calculating.

“Oh sweetheart,” he cooed, stroking her arm. “You know why it was necessary?” She nodded shakily as a steady resolve entered her eyes. “Those who cheat must be punished. Cubs must always be curbed of ugly habits,” she recited monotone, head down.

“Oh it’s always so good to know my cubs listen to me. And what about you sweetheart? Why did **you** deserve to be punished?” Silence was his answer as the crowd murmured anxiously and backed away.

“Not so cocky huh? Not after I chased away your **saviors** ” he spat out the word as if it was poison on his tongue.

“I-I didn’t,” she stuttered. Peter bent down to her eye level. “You didn’t what?” When she gave him no answer, he snatched her wrist and dug his nails into the angry red skin. “Answer me!” he shouted over her screams.

“Please!” A wizened woman pushed through the crowd, tears falling down her face. “Please it was me. I called the cops.” She paused and took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “You are too cruel to us Alpha Hael,” she said strongly, but her eyes pleaded with him.

“Too cruel?” The words were said innocently, but the crowd tensed. “You, you traitor, are still alive. I made sure you all **survived** when the government abandoned you! **I** made sure you started to rebuild your houses again and this is what I get?!” He finished, wide eyed and panting. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and smoothed his suit. “What I am saying is here I made you equal. Out there,” he gestured to the cities, “there are monopolies, greedy business men. Hierarchies,” he stage whispered. By this time, the scattered people had come into the house and surrounded him.

“We’re all equal, yes, but we’re all equal in our poverty. We’re not supposed to **surviving** , we’re supposed to be thriving. If it’s so bad out there, then why haven’t we improved to be better than that? Why are we dying Alpha Hael? Hierarchies? Anything is better than what we have here.”

Peter, who had been listening to this lifted his top lip in a predatory grin. “Anything?” he singsonged, reaching for his .40 Beretta. “Stop! You are surrounded!” Scotts voice boomed from the megaphone.

Stunned, Peter watched a cop fasten a handcuff around his wrist. “B-but how?” There had to be at least 15 men he had sent after them.

“Turns out that your people didn’t want anything to do with you after they got out of your sight. They hated you Peter,” Scott smirked at Peter’s flinch. “Plus, who’d wanna go against this big guy?” Scott nodded meaningfully at Derek, who sneered at Peter before sliding down the visor of his motorcycle helmet.

“Not so friendly, is he?” Peter asked, amused. “Neither are those in prison. I heard that they like men like you. Corrupt. Spoiled. Cocky. Easy on the eyes…” Scott trailed off and smirked at Peter’s horrified expression.

“Please! I can’t deal with those **monsters**. I-I have money. I can pay you!” Peter clawed at Scott’s chest, trying to find purchase. “Please,” he whispered brokenly. “Please don’t let me go to prison.”

All of a sudden, Derek was there, pulling Peter away. “Listen up and listen up good,” he growled. “Don’t you **ever** touch my partner, or I will rip out your throat. With my teeth.” Peter swallowed nervously at Derek’s wide smile.

You deserve whatever happens to you in prison, you worthless piece of shit. You injured, threatened, **killed** people who wanted to leave this “Utopia” of yours and now you’re afraid of a little karma?” Derek shoved Peter into the police car. “Be lucky you’re even **getting** prison and not a tête-à-tête with me.” With that he slammed the door shut.

“Shut up Scott,” he rumbled grumpily, turning on his Camaro. “I didn’t even **say** anything!" Scott protested, but he grinned nonetheless. “I didn’t know you cared about me so much **partner** ,” Scott singsonged, sliding into the passenger seat. 

“ I knew I was going to regret saying that,” Derek groaned, starting the engine. Even after five years of working together, he still couldn’t stand Scott. “I don’t know how Allison deals with you.” He smirks at Scott’s indignant “Hey!” _**I want ‘em real thick and juicy, so find that juicy double,Mix-a-Lot’s in trouble, beggin for a piece of that bubble**_ blasts through the Camaro before Scott smirked. “Oh look, it’s the chief.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You know, you **really** have to change that ringtone for the chief. One day she’s gonna-”

“Shhhhh!” Scott hissed, ripping out a piece of paper from the book on Derek’s dashboard. “Uh huh, Beacon Hills? Holy shit.” He jotted down the address before he squinted at the writing. “ _50 shades of Gray_?” he mouthed to Derek, who blushed and snatched the phone from Scotts grip.

“Shut **up**. And mention that to no one. Otherwise I’ll-”

“Rip my throat out with your teeth? Kinky.” Scott winked.

“Are you threatening my husband again Detective Hale?” the tinny voice asked from the phone.

“You know it Chief. So what’s up?” He pulled into the FBI headquarters and turned off his car.

“Did you just pull up? Just come into my office and I’ll explain it to you.” She hung up and Derek looked at the phone, irritated. “She **does** know that I have to leave early right?” He asked Scott, who shrugged apologetically.

“Must be really important.”

Derek knocked on the Chief’s door and a harried “C’mon in,” made him push the door open further. “Hey hon,” Allison placed a kiss on Scott’s jaw and winced. “You need to shave when we get home,” she cooed, flicking his nose.

“Chief, what’s this case about?” Derek interrupted. Once they started their love-fest, they would go on for hours before excusing themselves and going home, forgetting that Derek was in the room the whole time their foreplay was going on.

Allison cleared her throat, cheeks pink as she gave him a file. “Where the hell is Beacon Hills?” He asked, wrinkling his brow.

“”Northern L.A, kind of a big city too. With all the rich shmucks that you hate.” She grinned at his expression before pointing to a certain photo with a serious expression. It was a picture of a newspaper, with the words, **Vigilante strikes Prime Star again** and a blurry picture of a man throwing money into the air. “There have been a lot of robberies happening with this bank.” Allison pointed out.

“Prime Star,” Scott read aloud, his face one of deep concentration.

“Why do we need to get involved? Isn’t this the state’s problem?” Derek asked, his feet tapping a staccato beat on the floor.

“It would be if this guy didn’t go from state to state. And there’s been some chemical gases used in these assaults.” Allison finished, grim.

“ So what’re we looking at? Terrorist group? Extremists? Communists?” Scott asked.

“Well, the local police in all the states that have been attacked have only reported seeing one man, all the time, with no extra help. They’ve never managed to see his face, but it looks like a one man job.” Scott pulled her into his arms, rubbing her arms to soothe her frustrations.

“One man managed to rob a high security bank and steal,” Derek scanned the file, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “1.8 million dollars. Jesus.” He shook his head slowly, amazed. “There **has** to be someone else,” Derek mused, flipping through the photos. “Looks like he didn’t steal **all** of it. He threw most of it out of the window. To the public?” Allison shrugged at Derek’s confused face.

“I know, I know. Why? Why go through all of that trouble to steal that money from a high security bank, just to throw it out the window?”

“Maybe he’s a vigilante? A Robin Hood for Beacon Hills?” Scott offered.

“That’s…actually possible. But we need more evidence. Can I…?”

Allison picked up the file and shoved into Derek’s hands. “Yes, take the case Hale. And get the hell out of here, your tapping is pissing me off.” Derek picked up the case and started towards the door. “Oh and Derek?” He sighed irritably and turned to find his chief smiling softly at him. “Tell Laura I said ‘Happy Birthday.’”

Derek’s eyes watered for a second before he nodded brusquely. It had been two years since Laura had been murdered by a vigilante extremist and it was her birthday today. He slid into the car and started toward the ocean, where her ashes had been thrown. “A vigilante huh?” He pressed his foot down on the gas. “I’ll find you. And when I do, you’ll be sorry.” 


End file.
